


All By Myself

by fleurdeplume



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, canonverse, mentions of past abusive relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27462703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurdeplume/pseuds/fleurdeplume
Summary: Sandor and Sansa finally conquer their loneliness and spend the night together.... pure romantic fluff and smut to follow! ❤️❤️
Relationships: Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark
Comments: 18
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Long time SanSan fan! There are so many writers I admire in this fandom- It’s definitely been getting me through this insane year. I hope you enjoy!!

  


  
SANSA

Long after supper, Sansa retired to her solar and sat before the warmth of the flickering flames. A light snow fell quietly outside her window. She leaned back in her chair and pondered Sandor Clegane.

The events after the Battle had progressed so that Sandor had been hailed a hero, and he was increasingly a part of the decisions being made about Winterfell’s affairs. His opinion had become respected, and Sansa often wondered at his sudden turn of allegiances. Returning Arya safe had won him the support of many in the North, and the two warriors seemed to have come to a mutual respect for one another. He was protective of Arya, and possibly even more so of Sansa. He always eyed her when she went off for walks with her advisors, or when she went to be alone with her thoughts in the godswood. In fact, he was never far away when she wandered there.

Sansa found that her thoughts turned to him more often than she’d care to admit. She never saw him go off with different ladies after supper like some of the men. Not that the ladies didn’t try, much to Sansa’s displeasure. The way she felt his eyes on her, the way his gruff words belied something else- something hidden- Sansa couldn’t help but wonder if he thought of her too. She wondered if he laid alone at night as she did. Or perhaps he was just more discreet in his dalliances, and didn’t think of her at all. Sansa clenched the armrest, unsettled at the notion of him with someone else in his arms. There had to be some way to ascertain his true feelings for her, and- if her suspicions proved correct, certainly it wouldn’t be unheard of for someone in her position to take a lover? Unfortunately Sansa had become a lot wiser to the ways of the world and the happenings between men and women since her brief marriage to Ramsay.

Sighing, Sansa reflected on the joy she had felt when she saw him ride through Winterfell’s gates again. She had to admit, there was no other man in her life who her thoughts had so often turned to as sleep came over her at night. Many times as the moonlight glimmered, she imagined what his arms would feel like wrapped around her, keeping her safe. Sadly, Sansa realized that she had never known the happiness that some ladies seemed to enjoy. She had only known shame and displeasure in Ramsay’s bed. What would it be like to have a lover, indeed? Someone she respected and admired?

As the loneliness crept through her, Sansa stood and donned her warmest robes. The statues in the crypt were calling to her- perhaps even the godswood as well. She could not rest well when her thoughts were churning so. She crept out of her room and wandered silently down the hall. Her brows furrowed together as she passed the ancient library, when suddenly a raspy voice called out from behind her.

“Something the matter, little bird? It’s late.” Sansa whirled around.

“No- not at all!” she quickly answered, surprised to have been followed. Sandor glared down at her, his steel eyes trained on her in the flickering candlelight.

“I am going for a walk- thank you for your concern.”

Sandor’s gaze narrowed as he approached her. Sansa could smell spiced wine on his breath. “Are you off to meet someone, then? Some handsome lord, perhaps?”

Sansa steeled herself and looked straight into his harsh grey eyes. “I am through with handsome lords, ser.”

Sandor scoffed. “Is that so?” he leaned closer. “How about ugly ones? Used to be you couldn’t look at me.” He chuckled mildly under his breath, and then his face became somber.

“I know you better now, Sandor. I have come to enjoy your company- _very much_.” She smiled faintly. The two stared at each other, Sandor’s eyes searching hers.

“Will you walk me back to my solar?” Sansa’s voice shook almost imperceptibly, as she realized what she was about to do.

Sandor grunted in reply and fell in beside her as she turned back toward her chambers. His brow furrowed and they didn’t speak.

As her chamber door approached, Sansa pondered what to say. She wanted him to stay with her. She wanted to talk with him, to pour him some wine, perhaps to touch him.

  
As she entered the doorway, she mildly hoped he would follow her in. His feet stayed planted in the hall. She turned and looked up at him longingly as the flickering firelight lit the room. Sandor sucked in a breath, and she noticed his eyes roam over her. There was a tension between them that Sansa could feel in her bones.

“Won’t you come in?” Her eyes pleaded with his. Sandor’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he smirked. “I must have had more wine tonight than I thought.... I thought I heard the little bird ask me into her room.” Sansa blushed, and then stepped slowly toward him.

A pause.

“Do you know that I’m not such a little bird anymore?” Sansa searched his gaze. His eyes burned into hers.

“Aye. I know. Believe me, little bird, I know.” he spoke quietly.

She began to extend her arm to him when like a flash of fire he was upon her. His arms were wrapped around her and his heat, his smell... were everywhere. He was real. He was here with her. And he wanted her to know it.

Sandor began pressing kisses and short licks of his tongue into the crook of her neck as he whirled her around and closed the door behind them. He growled and pressed his hips into hers, his hand traveling down to squeeze her behind and pull her into him. Sansa could feel the hardness of his manhood, could feel him showing her how he wanted her. Her arms, which had been hanging limp in her surprise, suddenly came to life and her fingers threaded into his hair. Her breathing came quick.

Sandor’s lips left her throat and his eyes met hers. He then nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “Do you see what you do to me, girl? I’ve been lonely too, little bird. I know what it’s like. Tell me you want this.” he rasped into her ear, then rolled her little lobe in his tongue. His steely voice pleaded. “Tell me you want me, Sansa.”

As if afraid of her answer, his lips crashed onto hers. His tongue pried her mouth open and their lips moved together in a way Sansa had never known. She leaned toward him and pressed against him just as fiercely in return. He groaned. Sansa lost herself in the kiss, time disappeared as she focused on committing to memory the way he felt against her, his musky smell, the press of his rough lips against hers. She gasped for breath and said his name huskily.

“Sandor! I want you, Sandor. Please.” He groaned again as he pulled her toward the bed and began working at the clasps of her robes. They fell to the ground. Sansa tugged at his tunic and he paused briefly to pull it over his shoulders.

She gaped at the man before her. He was pure muscle, with scars from battles dashed about his chest and arms. “Oh, Sandor...” she breathed as she lightly traced them. He closed his eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve dreamt of you, little bird? His sharp grey eyes locked on hers as his thumb caressed her collarbone. The corner of his mouth curved into a small smile.

“Far longer than I should have, I’ll admit. Since you were running about the Red Keep, dreaming about your lords and sers and true knights. You haunted me those long nights I spent on the Quiet Isle. I dreamt of you as a woman grown. I came to Winterfell, longing to be near you. To fight for your cause, without any hope that you could ever look upon me as you are now.” His eyes burned into hers. She knew he spoke the truth. She would reward him with the truth as well.

“I’ve dreamt of you too, Sandor. For so long. But since you came back- I have been afraid. Ramsay wasn’t good to me.”

He sighed. “Damn that sickly bastard. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t wish him alive again so I could look him in the eyes and kill him myself for what he did to you. Slowly.” Sandor’s eyes blazed into hers, searching.

  
Sansa looked at him and stood. Her trembling hands reached to undo her laces. His hand stroked softly at her hip.

“I won’t hurt you, little bird. Tell me if you don’t like it, and we’ll stop.” He paused, and looked up at her. “I want to please you. If this night is all the chance you ever give me, little bird....” Sansa stopped him, pressing her lips to his.

He walked her back until she fell onto the bed, his kiss deepening as he pulled her dress and shifts down, exposing her breasts. He hungrily lapped his way down to her nipples, rolling them in his mouth as she shucked off her remaining clothes.

Sandor stopped to admire her. “You’re so fucking beautiful. You’re a fucking dream, Sansa.” She was desperate to feel his skin against her. Her hands roamed his chest and sides and her legs fell apart as he laid his hips between hers. Sandor’s hardness pressed at her center through his breeches and she moaned. Her hand wandered down and rubbed him over his laces. Sandor bucked into her, groaning.

“Take them off.” Sansa commanded, sitting up and rubbing his chest as he quickly removed what clothing remained. He stood before her, his manhood huge and straining. Sansa pressed her fingers around its weeping tip. “Fuck, Sansa,” he moaned as her fingers roamed his length, feeling every inch of his hardness.

Sandor pressed her back down to the bed, leaning over her. His fingers sought out her flower, traveled up and down her slick folds, and dipped lightly inside her. She spread her legs wider. “Fuck,” he murmured again, “you’re wet for me. Fuck, Sansa.... you’re ready.” His eyes were wild as her fingers stroked up and down his length. “Do you want my cock, girl? Do you want me to fuck you?”

Sandor’s crude words and obvious arousal merely served to encourage Sansa further. She pressed her lips to his and keened as his searching fingers found her pearl and circled it lightly. “Ah, Sandor....” she moaned, lifting her hips into his touch. “Please... please... come inside me. I want to feel you. I need to feel you.”

Sandor groaned and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he lined himself up with her entrance. He ran his tip up and down her folds gently as his lips found hers. “Little bird,” he breathed against her mouth as he slowly, so slowly.... sheathed himself fully inside her, watching her reaction.

Sansa moaned and bucked her hips into him in encouragement. She felt so full, and so close to him. Her hands ran frantically over his body, learning the feel of him in truth for the first time, and not just in her mind. He began to move inside her and they both groaned in pleasure. He kissed her slowly and languidly, their tongues melding together as if they couldn’t get enough. _So this is what it feels like to make love_ , Sansa mused as he filled her. His hand moved down to circle her pearl with more pressure. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Keep going,” Sansa gasped. “Don’t stop, Sandor!”

“I won’t stop, little bird. I want to fuck you until I die. You feel like heaven.” His lips crashed against hers and she mewled as his hips began to thrust with new abandon, each thrust becoming stronger. Sansa felt her strength growing too, knowing how he wanted her.

Sandor raised himself up and began to fuck her in earnest, thrusting deeply as his tip began to push against a sensitive spot deep within Sansa. Sansa cried out as her deep inner walls began to quiver. She was close. She needed him so much. “Sandor....Sandor!” she cried out as her pleasure began to wash over her and her walls clenched around his shaft.

“That’s it, little bird!” he roared, “Come for me!” He fucked her through the waves of her pleasure until he could no longer hold his own at bay. He roared as his warm seed spurted within her, pumping himself a few more times until he fell down over her, exhausted. Her hand stroked his back softly and she kissed his temple.

They stayed joined until their breathing calmed and Sandor was too spent to support his weight above her. He rolled over onto his back and she curled against him, pressing small kisses into his shoulder. He grabbed her hand and drug her arm over his chest, squeezing her fingers tight within his, resting them over his heart.

“I know there are true knights,” Sansa murmured into his shoulder as her eyes closed and they let sleep overtake them both. The snow continued to fall gently outside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update: 
> 
> So- the night is long and I need more SanSan. Thus, I have returned with a chapter two. Lots of fluffy good times as Sandor and Sansa go about their respective days before returning to one another for another night of passion.

*******

Trickles of morning sun began to creep in through Sansa’s window, creating blurred patterns of flickering light over the stone walls. The fire had long since died, and Sansa shivered slightly in the coolness of the morning, tucking the furs closer around her. The aroma of fresh sweetbread and tea wafted over to her nose. Her eyes shot open. The maid had been in- surely she wouldn’t have missed the hulking figure sharing Sansa’s bed. Sansa blushed and turned toward Sandor, who was leaning up on his elbow and watching her. 

“Good morning, little bird.” His familiar raspy voice was a comfort to her.

Sansa smiled. “I had thought last night was a dream,” she murmured. “But here you are.”

“Aye, although I needs be going. I’ll be missed in the practice yard.” He reached over and ran his fingers lightly along her arm. 

Sansa pulled him down to her for a leisurely kiss. 

“Come back again tonight?” Her eyes peered up at him shyly.

“Aye. Nothing could keep me away.” He smiled and kissed her forehead, the bed shifting as he stood up to dress. Sansa watched him as he did, admiring his warrior’s build. He turned around and winked. She chuckled, then turned and donned her morning robes as well, handing him some warm bread and cheese as he made toward the door.

“Thank you, little bird.” He smiled sheepishly at her, and she realized he was thanking her for more than just the bread. She squeezed his fingers tightly and bade him farewell. 

*******

After breakfast, Sansa made her way to the councilroom for a morning update from her advisors. Since the end of the Wars and the installment of Bran as King, the North had been enjoying an unusual time of peace and rebuilding. Crops had been faring well, infrastructure was being repaired, and the military was retraining and rebuilding in stronger numbers. Her councilmen had been working on planning a peacetime celebration festival for the northern Lords, amongst other preparations for meetings and large counsels. 

After the meeting, Sansa walked the castle hallways with her trusted friend and advisor, Lord Samwell Tarly. Bran had sent him North for a few weeks to observe Winterfell’s progress of late and to meet with Sansa and update her on some affairs in King’s Landing. 

“I much prefer Winterfell when it isn’t being threatened by deathly wights.” Tarly commented lightly. Sansa laughed. Indeed, there was a lightness in the air as they watched the people mill about their day below them. Sansa and Lord Tarly chatted merrily as they made their way down a stairwell and past the practice yard. Sansa’s eyes flickered quickly over the grounds to see if she could find Sandor amongst the men. 

Lord Tarly caught her attention, awkwardly coughing a bit. He seemed hesitant to broach the next subject. “Your Grace..... your brother mentioned for me to ask you about your thoughts on marriage. He is keen to see you happy with a family by your side.” Sansa sighed, and Lord Tarly looked mildly discouraged. His voice lowered. “I know your first marriage was... not happy. Ramsay was a cruel man. But not all men are so.”

“I have thought about it, Samwell.” Sansa walked to the edge of the practice yard and leaned against the cold stone. “But I should like to marry a man I care about, and not just for political reasons.” 

Lord Tarly smiled. “As Wardeness of the North, that is your prerogative. You will rule, and your husband would support you.”

Sansa smiled. “I will think on it more, Sam. I thank you for your concern.” 

*********

Later that day, Sansa wandered toward the godswood. The winter snow was beautiful, and shocks of ice blue roses bloomed fully as she made her way down the trail. She heard a crunch of twigs behind her.

“You know I don’t care for you walking about unguarded.” Sandor’s gruff voice was unmistakable as he made his way toward her, still muddy and sweating from the practice yard. 

“I looked for you today as I walked past with Sam. I was hoping to see you instructing the new soldiers. I always like watching you.”

Sandor fell in beside her. 

“I spent most of the morning indoors- the commanders were talking to me about a promotion. They want me to be the new Master of Arms.” 

Sansa smiled enigmatically. “You would do well, Sandor. The soldiers respect you, and none can best you with a sword.”

He turned toward her, steel eyes meeting hers. “They told me you suggested it.” His eyes searched hers, the corner of his lips curving up in a smile. “Would it please you, your Grace? For me to oversee the training of your soldiers?” 

Sansa pondered how when he addressed her as “your Grace,” he always did so a bit mockingly. He had known her since her childhood, and it was always strange to hear him calling her that.

“It would please me.” She smiled up at him, her eyes fixing on his lips. He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against hers. Sansa was amazed that such a fierce warrior could be so gentle. He had been gentle with her while in her bed last night- until he knew that she could handle his full strength. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d regret last night,” he spoke lowly, as if reading her mind. “This morning I thought that perhaps I should have played the noble lord and refused you. But I couldn’t turn away.” He paused, looking down. “You aren’t..... disappointed?”

“Disappointed!” Sansa exclaimed. “Is that what you truly think? Sandor, I have never known such pleasure as you gave me last night.” She stroked her fingers along his armor, wishing she could feel him through it. His eyes burned into hers.

“Gods, woman, you make me crazy. I can hardly think when you’re near.” His lips found her earlobe and he rolled his tongue around it, teasing her. His voice lowered even more as he rasped into her ear. “Do you know what those surly whelps they call soldiers talk about in the practice yard? They say the sauciest things about your lips and your teats, feeding their foolish wet dreams about winning your favor. Little cocky bastards. I just say nothing and smile.” He leaned back and looked at her. “Especially now that we’re.... we’re...” his hand waved about a bit.

“Lovers?” Sansa smiled. He peered down at her. 

Sandor sucked in a breath, a look of bewilderment in his eyes.

“Aye.”

He offered her his arm, and they walked the trails together, sometimes silent, sometimes talking lightly of nothing, until late in the afternoon when it was time to dress for supper. Sandor pressed a kiss to her cheek as they knew they must part.

“I will tell my guards to allow you passage when you come to my room tonight. And I’m sure my maid saw you this morning. Sandor, the castle will soon know about us.”

“They can mind their business.” Sandor gruffed as he turned away.

******

The atmosphere in the great hall was merry as Sansa approached her seat. At the end of the week it was custom to have a large feast such as this one- a chance for the lords and ladies and some smallfolk and castle servants alike to let loose after their toils. The candles flickered beautifully along the walls and the air was thick with the smell of spiced mulled wine and warm roasted meats as the guests assembled. A few musicians had gathered near the corner of the hall and played pretty tunes as the meal began. Sansa enjoyed seeing the hall teeming with people chatting and laughing amongst themselves. It reminded her of her youth, before the Wars, when times in Winterfell had been more peaceful. 

“Master Clegane was quite impressive in the practice yard this morning, Your Grace.” One of her advisors leaned in as he sipped at a goblet of wine. “He has a way with the young soldiers. He understands them. I believe he will do well in his new assignment.”

Sansa nodded in agreement. “I have known Clegane quite a long time now. He has survived things... such unimaginable things.” She shook her head and her brows furrowed. “There is a ferocity and spirit within him that I admire- although I do believe it was tempered with the wisdom he gained living with the septons on the Quiet Isle. He is.... less angry than he used to be. Although, somehow, no less fearsome.”

Her advisor nodded in agreement. Sansa allowed her gaze to wander over to where Sandor was seated a few tables away, alongside some of the military leaders. He was an impressive figure, and he seemed every inch a Northman now, draped in his fine black furs and dark leather armor. Sandor felt her gaze and his eyes flickered over to meet hers. He raised his glass to her slightly as he took a sip, and turned back to his dinner companions. Sansa smiled to herself.

******

After the music had died down and her guests had disassembled, Sansa made her way back to her solar. Sansa gazed out the window as the sun sank slowly- too slowly- out of sight, painting the sky in beautiful colors, a last song of the day just before the thick blanket of night. Such a shame to watch this spectacle alone, she mused, knowing exactly the strong set of arms she wished were around her. She pressed her thighs together as she remembered the feel of him, the sight of him has he had taken her in her bed last night. She thought of the years she had spent wanting him, perhaps not knowing exactly what it was she had wanted at the time, but only knowing that it somehow had always involved him. 

Sandor had saved her so many times, had protected her in times that no one else would. Sansa smiled, thinking about how he had so often scoffed at her romantic ideals of true knights, but then rushed in to save her honor during the bread riots at King’s Landing. How he had offered to steal her away from the Lannisters on that greenlit night during the battle. And years later, how he had fought at her family’s side against the white walkers, bravely facing such horrors in battle. He had never been perfect, but he had shown her that there were still admirable men in the world. It was the thought of him that kept her spirit from breaking during her marriage to Ramsay. The thought of how he would have told her to fight back, to be a wolf. The way he had always tried to warn her about the world, to make her see.

A soft knock at her door. Sansa ran to let him in. She threw the door open. 

A diminutive little warrior stood behind it.

“Arya!” She exclaimed. 

“Expecting someone else?” Arya’s eyes narrowed and she chuckled. “I just stopped by to give you these.” Arya reached into her pocket and withdrew a small pouch with a familiar lemon scent. “Lemon drops. They came in just today on a shipment from Dorne. I know how much you like them.” 

Sansa laughed, taking the pouch. “Thank you for thinking of it. I missed you at supper today.”

“I was off at the armory inspecting the work on my new sword. When it’s finished I’ll be ready for my ambassador’s trip to Essos.” Arya’s eyes scanned Sansa’s room briefly. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Arya.” Sansa rolled her eyes and laughed as she closed the door.

It wasn’t long before Sansa heard heavier footfalls outside. She opened the door before he had a chance to knock.

Sandor walked in and folded her into her arms, kissing her soundly.

“Did the guards give you any trouble?”

“They would have lost their necks if they did.”

She pressed herself into him, running her arms along his muscled shoulders. He kissed her deeply. It made her heart spin, the way he kissed her like a man starved. 

“My damn cock’s been hard all day, thinking of you waiting for me up here, little bird. And I almost got spied by your little wolf sister when she left your hallway.”

Sansa helped him remove his cloak and motioned toward the small table and flagon of wine near the fire. 

“Sandor, sit down and let me take care of your... of you.” Sansa blushed. He sat and motioned for her to sit alongside him as he opened the flagon of wine and poured her a glass. 

Sansa nuzzled in next to him and kissed along his neck as he took a long pull from the flagon. She then dropped to her knees in front of him and began to pull off his boots, shyly flashing him a view of her ample teats from above. She took a small sip of her wine, eyes on him as she licked the rim of the glass lightly and set it back down. His eyes darkened. With her task finished, Sansa rose, straddled his lap and began to gently knead his temples and shoulders. Sandor set down the flagon and leaned back with a sigh. 

“Gods, little bird... to think you’d be touching me like this. That you’d want to.”

Sansa pressed her lips to his. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Sandor. I’ve... imagined us together. Like this.”

Sandor growled against her lips. “And what did you do, little bird? When you thought of us like this?”

Sansa reached for his hand and brought it to the apex of her thighs. She pressed his fingers against her sex through her shift, and he groaned.

“Did you think of me too?”

“All the time, little bird. I’ve been a lovesick fool cunt over you.”

Sansa deepened her kiss and ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. They kissed each other fiercely, tongues melding together and small groans emerging from their throats.

When she needed to stop for breath, Sansa leaned back and pulled her shift up over her shoulders, tossing it aside. She arched her back and let him admire her. His hands ran over her body, feeling the softness of each curve. He pressed his lips in between her breasts, kissing her there before taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking on it gently. Sansa moaned. She stroked her fingers through his thick black hair.

“Sandor...” she breathed as his lips suckled her teats. He picked her up and walked them over to the bed. 

Lying her down, Sandor leaned over her and she helped him tug his tunic over his massive shoulders and off. She pulled insistently at the laces of his breeches. 

“Needy little bird.” he rasped, pulling his breeches off to reveal his straining manhood. Sansa took it in her hands, stroking his length gently and teasing the tip of his cock with the lightness of her fingers. She placed a small kiss on it and looked up at him sweetly. Sandor’s eyes rolled back in his head as she sucked lightly on him.

When he came to his senses, Sandor pushed Sansa gently back onto the bed. He pulled her legs apart and began to trail kisses up the inside of her thigh. Sansa stilled a bit when she realized what he was going to do. Sandor gazed up at her, concerned.

“I’ve never... done that with anyone before.” 

“I’ll be gentle, little bird.” He smiled a ravishing smile up at her. “Let me taste your pretty cunt.”

Sansa relaxed and let him open her legs wider, then shuddered as he slowly traced a long line along her slit with his hot, wet tongue. They both moaned. Sansa had never felt anything like it- she felt vulnerable with her most sensitive place right there against his mouth, but she trusted Sandor like no one else. He traced another long line and then plunged his tongue deeper inside her folds, lapping at her. Sansa arched her back and moaned.

Sandor worked his tongue up along her folds and began to circle her sensitive pearl. He dipped back down into her folds, then circled her pearl gently again. “Gods, Sandor...” Sansa moaned as her fingers ran through his hair. She could see that he was stroking himself as he flicked her most sensitive part with his tongue, causing her to shudder. He groaned.

“You taste so fucking good, little bird. Gods, so good.” 

“I want you inside me. I want to feel you, Sandor, please!”

Sandor rolled onto his back and pulled Sansa on top of him, positioning her over his hardened manhood. She leaned down to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips as she took him in her hand and lowered herself onto him. Sansa felt so stretched around his cock, he filled her so completely. 

“Fuck, Sansa...” he moaned as she began moving up and down his length, arching over him. Her hand ran through her fiery hair as she tossed it over her shoulder, letting him view her breasts fully. Sandor’s hands palmed her breasts and squeezed her nipples tightly.

They moved together languidly as the firelight lit the room. As they exchanged heated kisses, Sansa could feel her walls begin clenching insistently around him. 

“Sandor, Sandor...gods... I’m going to come!” Sandor sat up and kissed Sansa deeply as she moved over him, and began to fuck her from below as her walls clenched around him. Sansa’s release washed over her as she moaned his name, and she fell into a languid daze as he flipped her over and began pounding into her, lost in chasing his own pleasure. Sansa reached her hand up and brought his forehead down to hers as he fucked into her warmth. She locked eyes with him as he worked toward his release, panting. 

Sansa ran her hands up and down along his back. She could tell that he was close. “Come for me,” she whispered into his scarred ear, and Sandor collapsed onto her as he found his release and his cock pulsed deep within her. 

After their breathing had evened out and their senses began to return to a more normal state, Sandor slipped out of her and rolled to his back, pulling her to nestle in next to him. He rubbed along her arm and she traced his chest lightly with her fingers. Sansa could feel his warm seed dripping down her thighs, and for once the feeling didn’t repulse her. 

“I love you, little bird.” The corners of his eyes held tears.

She snuggled in closer to him. Sansa wondered if he had ever known much love before this in his life. She guessed that he had not. She moved up and kissed the corners of his eyes.

“I love you too, Sandor.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smutty smutty lovefest. I hope you enjoy.

SANSA

Sansa awoke to the feeling of strong, warm arms wrapped firmly around her. She nuzzled in closely to his chest, listening to his heartbeat quicken as he began to stir. Her toes stroked up and down his leg, and her fingers trailed lightly around his collarbone as began to come to his senses.

“Little bird,” he mumbled. His lips found a sensitive place in the crook of her neck, and he kissed and nuzzled her there.

Suddenly he was gone from her, lurching upright and walking over to the chamberpot to empty his water. Sansa admired him from behind, his muscled backside on full display to her as he wiped himself and then returned to her side.

“A man could get used to waking up to this.” His eyes raked over her body as he crept in next to her and drew the furs around them, kissing along her neck and jawline as he traced his way to her lips. She could feel his manhood begin to stiffen as he rubbed his hips into hers.

“Sandor....”  
“Mmhm?”

“How was it that you chanced to be walking about the castle so late the night before last? When you found me?”  
“Couldn’t sleep, little bird. Just like you.”  
“Were you hoping to find me?”

He smiled down at her.  
“I’m always hoping to find you.”

Sansa pressed her lips to his, then settled back against her pillow, her arms rubbing up and down the thick muscles of his shoulders.

“I never stopped thinking of you, Sandor. I thought of you when I needed to be strong.” She paused, steeling herself. “I thought of you when I killed Ramsay. Sandor.... I enjoyed killing him. I was glad when he was dead.”

Sandor smiled faintly. “Smug bastard deserved what he got. You are braver than you know, little bird. You did well to end him. He can’t hurt you now, or anyone else.” Sandor gave her an amused smirk. “And I’ll be happy to kill anyone else who tries to harm you. You just give me the word.”

Their lips met as they explored each other slowly, Sandor moving over her to trace his tongue along her neck.

“Sandor, I.....” Sansa stilled, and looked up shyly. Sandor looked over her with concern.

“What is it, little bird?”

Sansa returned his gaze. “I haven’t taken any moon tea yet.” His brows furrowed as he traced circles on her shoulder.

“I couldn’t bring myself to.” She kissed his scarred cheek. “I want you to be my lord husband. My consort. I want to give you children.”

The look of surprise on Sandor’s face unnerved her. Then his eyes began to glisten at the corners as he raised himself up, staring at her.

“Sansa, I.... I never imagined you would say such things. Forgive me, I... had thought that you might allow me these few nights as your humble dog, but... I...” Sandor did his best to gather his racing thoughts, peering down at her. “I’ll admit that I could not remain here in Winterfell just to watch you take another man to your bed. Not after having you like this. Little bird, you have always had my heart.” He gently brushed the hair from her forehead as he leaned down to place a tender kiss at her cheek, awestruck.

“We can think on it more later.” Sansa smiled up at him. “For now.... kiss me, Sandor.” He was more than eager to comply. Sandor’s lips claimed hers fiercely as he moved over her, pressing his hips into hers. He growled as her arms tightened around him and she drew her legs around his thighs, pulling him tightly against her.

His hardened manhood found her entrance and pushed into her heat with ease. He growled fiercely. “Are you mine, little bird? For true?”

“For true. Sandor, take me! I’m yours.” He pushed into her with abandon, feeling her walls clench against his hardness. She rose to meet his thrusts, moaning wantonly as he rutted into her. Sandor pulled her arms above her head, hands clenched within his own as he melted into her tight heat. His lips found hers.

“Fuck, Sansa.” His gravelly, husky voice aroused her more than anything. Sandor’s mouth dropped to nip at her neck. “I won’t last long, little bird. You feel so good on my cock.”

Sansa was unable to answer, having been reduced to mere mewls and whimpers as his manhood massaged her from deep within. She felt herself growing stronger, his fierceness transferring to her as their passion overtook them.

“Sandor!” She gasped, pulling herself from him suddenly. He groaned, bereft of her heat, cock swollen and full. She met his eyes. “Take me from behind. I want to forget that he ever did, and only think of you taking me that way. Make me forget him.”

Sansa whirled around to all fours, resting her forearms against the mattress as she pressed her wet cunt against his hardness. Sandor roared as he grabbed her hips and sheathed himself deeply within her. He felt massive this way, and the angle made Sansa’s walls tremble with the sensation. Sandor leaned over her and folded her hands in his, kissing her neck. Sansa marveled at how she felt safe and comforted with him behind her, not miserable and threatened as she had with Ramsay.

Sandor licked a long line along her neck, breathing heavily into her ear. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Sansa breathed. “You feel so good, Sandor. I feel safe with you.”

His manhood pulsed within her. “You’re always safe with me, little bird.”

He squeezed her fingers within his own and began to make slow circles with his hips behind her, massaging her deepest places with his cock. Sansa arched her back and mimicked his circles, bringing them both close to the edge of their pleasure. He leaned around to kiss her deeply, their tongues mingling as their bodies savored each other. He reached around to begin massaging her pearl and Sansa came undone, moaning wantonly.

“That’s it, little bird. That’s it.” Her walls clenched around his hardness. She screamed his name as she came, and he collapsed over her, pulsing his warm seed with his own release.

Sandor fell to his side and pulled her to his chest. Their breathing slowly began to even out.

After a few minutes passed, a soft knock rattled the door. “Your Grace... your breakfast?”

Sansa pulled the furs over them and beckoned the maid to come in, thanking her as she quickly set the tray of food down and hurried out of the room.

******

Later that morning, Sandor curtly informed Sansa’s guards and small counsel that they would be riding out for the afternoon. Lord Tarly smiled mischievously at Sansa and wished them an enjoyable ride as he leafed through some dusty old legal tomes. “You’ll do well to take in the countryside today, your Grace. Enough of politics for now- you should go out and enjoy yourself. I’m sure your Master of Arms will watch over you well.”

Sansa blushed and headed with Sandor toward the stables, bidding her counsel good day. After they left, Lord Tarly smiled to himself. _I might have guessed that big aurochs was in love with her_ , he mused.

Last night’s fresh snowfall lent a crispness to the air, and the hilltops glistened in the bright sunlight. Sandor led her red chestnut mare from the stall and tied her alongside his massive black warhorse. Sansa sat upon a pile of soft hay and watched him as he skillfully groomed their horses and saddled them, adding a small flagon of wine and some wrapped bread and cheese to the saddlebags.

When it came time to mount, Sandor held his hand out for her to step onto and she sprung into the saddle with ease. He mounted Stranger in one fluid movement and they rode out of Winterfell’s gates onto the hillside.

Sansa had often admired Sandor in the saddle. He rode well, and his tender attitude with the horses belied his fearsome nature as a warrior. Today, with his black furs and capes trailing in the wind behind him as he gripped the reins, he looked perfectly regal.

“I’m not used to courting highborn maidens,” Sandor gruffed from alongside her. “I’m still coming around to the idea that a noble woman like you could want this scarred old dog at all.”

Sansa smiled and regarded him. “You underestimate yourself, Sandor. You are a lord, and a brave warrior, knight’s vows or no. And by now you must know that I find you very handsome.”

They rode quietly for a while, admiring the wintery landscape around them. The crisp air puffed from their horse’s nostrils as they approached a secluded clearing in the godswood. Sandor helped her dismount and tied the horses loose enough to graze. He spread a large fur out over the snow and Sansa pulled their meal from the saddlebags. Sandor sat, leaning against a large gnarled tree, and Sansa nestled into his arms. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Do you remember when Joffrey had me stripped before the throne? I was horrified until you wrapped me in your cloak.”

“I was always a hair’s breadth from gutting that little fucker for the way he treated you. It wasn’t hard to defect from the Lannisters after all that. I only wish you had come with me that night. I could have kept you from Ramsay and the others.”

“I was young and afraid. I was trying to do the right thing, I just didn’t know what that was.”

“You were the gentlest maiden I had ever seen. You still are.”

“Sandor,” she laughed, squeezing his thigh and leaning back to kiss his jaw. “I’m not exactly a maiden.”

He growled as his lips claimed hers. “Remind me of that again.”


End file.
